No Longer Hidden
by Emba
Summary: HOLY CRAP I UPDATED! Sequel to Hidden Feelings. Buffy and Angel are finally together...but can they survive the obstacles that stand in their way?
1. Default Chapter

Author: Emba  
  


Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.  


  
Authors Note: I'm back! And look how quick I updated! I just was in the mood to update so... I did. PLEASE REVIEW!

* * *

My alarm beeps loudly in my ears. I turn over and hit the snooze button with out evening opening an eye. I've had years of practice at this.  
  
And then, the stupid piece of crap starts to beep again. Son of a b—  
  
"BUFFY! TIME TO GET UP, HONEY!" I almost jump out of my bed at my mother's voice. Why is she yelling? It's 6:00 in the MORNING. I should be sleeping right now. Damn school to hell!  
  
Groaning, I hastily get out of my bed and trudge down the stairs. Stupid, stupid, stupid school. Why couldn't I have been one of those super smart kids who went through all of high school and college in like...2 years? Seriously, why couldn't I have just gone and been the--- "BUFFY!" My mother yells again, this time in my face.  
  
I stare at her in shock. "WHAT?" I hiss.  
  
"HOW WAS YOUR NIGHT?" She screams as she hands me a glass of orange juice.  
  
Ignoring her first question, I take a gulp of my drink and stare at her incredulously, "Why are you screaming?"  
  
"HMM? HONEY, I CAN'T HEAR YOU."  
  
"WHY ARE YOU SCREAMING?!" I yell back, frustrated at this stupidness. What the hell is wrong with her?  
  
"OH, WELL, LAST NIGHT ONE OF MY..." She pauses, "CLIENTS TOOK ME TO A SURPRISE CONCERT. THAT'S WHY I WAS HOME SO LATE."  
  
Surprise concert? She has pretty generous clients. "Oh." Is all I say, and I then chug the rest of my orange juice and run up the stairs to find something to wear. It must be something sexy for Angel. Smirking, I dive in to my closet.  
  
Something about my mother's words sets off an alarm in my head. Something's up. I shrug. I'll figure it out eventually. It's probably nothing.

* * *

BEEP, BEEP!  
  
I hear Angel's lame car horn beep indicating his irritated-ness at my lateness. Wow, I just made up two words and somehow fit them in to a sentence. I'm so lame.  
  
Finishing the last touches on my outfit, I grab my satchel, shove a pop tart in my mouth and fly out the door. "HAVE A GOOD DAY, SWEETIE!" My mother screams after me. I jump at her voice that cuts through the silent Monday morning air. Must've been some concert.  
  
I look at Angel's car and laugh. Such a crappy car, and yet such a good make out place. Angel and I have been together for now three and a half weeks and we've just grown closer everyday. He's still my best friend and at the same time my boyfriend who I love.  
  
"Morning," I greet him as I start to eat my pop tart.  
  
Silence.  
  
Uhh? What's going on? I look up to see him staring at me with hungry eyes.  
  
Smirking inwardly, I try my best innocent look that has worked for years. Seriously, it has. When I was 11 Angel dared me to steal our teacher, Mrs. Mullens' coffee... I know, it's weird but Mrs. Mullen's was crazy, and when I say crazy I mean LUNATIC crazy. She needed her daily dose of caffeine to keep her from killing all of us. And so, I did. I do NOT back down from a dare. NEVER. Anyway, I stole it and hid it in under a bunch of drawings we did for the homeless or something like that, I don't really remember but then when she couldn't find it she freaked out! Mrs. Mullens searched the WHOLE classroom, every desk, every chair, every thing. I kept my cool...WHO AM I KIDDING? I was a wreck! Angel was cracking up the whole time while I was practically biting my nails off from being so nervous. Eventually, she found it and analyzed the area for any evidence of who the perpetrator was. She found three blonde pieces of hair. All eyes were on me. I was the only blonde in class somehow, all the other blondes were in Mr. Ratbornes class across the hall. I quickly plastered on my "innocent as lambs face", as Angel likes to call it, and Mrs. Mullens was fooled. She smiled gently at me took a long gulp of her coffee.  
  
"What's wrong?" I ask Angel, keeping my innocence look intact.  
  
He gives me a look and I giggle. "Don't give me your innocent as lambs face, you know what's wrong."  
  
Hehehe. "Hmm...I have no idea what you're talking about." I reply, leaning towards him.  
  
"That outfit. You're wearing that to school? Every guy in school is going to be all over you." He looks angry.  
  
I laugh outright, "I didn't wear this for every guy in school, I wore it for you." I lean in a bit more.  
  
He leans in as well. "Well, when you put it that way..." And we kiss...  
  
Ah, I love these morning make out sessions in his car. They are always refreshing. And extremely hot.  
  
I bring up my hands to his neck and thread my fingers through his hair. This action drives him crazy. I massage him slowly and he groans in to my mouth.  
  
We break apart ten minutes later and I glance at the clock. "Put the petal to the metal, we're late again."  
  
He curses under his breath before zooming ahead.

* * *

I rush in to my first period class which is English, and sit in my seat next to Willow. She looks at me with raised eyebrows. "Late again? Oh, and your lip-gloss in smeared."  
  
I reapply my lip-gloss and grin at Willow's knowing smile. "Yes, late again."  
  
She chuckles and we turn and watch Xander run in to homeroom with lipstick on his lips. "Xander what were you doing before school, trying on your mothers lip stick?" I joke, and Willow and I share a small laugh.  
  
"Ha ha. Very, very funny, Buffy. But you know what I was doing because I bet you were doing the same thing." Xander says.  
  
Oh, crap I'm blushing. I'm such a freak.  
  
"Hah! Look at that blush!" He exclaims happily. I glare at him, what a nerd.  
  
These past few weeks Anya and Xander have been actually dating instead of just making out at the Bronze. Xander says he's falling for Anya, and I think it's the cutest thing. Except, Anya's a bit weird and blunt, but we all deal with it.  
  
Every conversation quiets as some stuffy British guy in tweed walks through the door and stutters nervously about being a fill in for our regular teacher. We all groan in unison. This is going to be a long class.

* * *

Okay, so, that's my first chapter! How was it? Stupid? Cool? REVIEW PLEASE!! 


	2. A Normal Day

Author: Emba  
  
Disclaimer: Ugh, I thought we've gone over this! IT'S NOT MINE.  
  
Authors Note: Thanks for the reviews! I'm sorry this took so long, I have been trying to tone my tan and it just took up all my time. Oh yes, and because many reviewers asked to know what Buffy's outfit looked like, I decided to fit that in to this chapter.

* * *

Time: 2:55 PM... 5 minutes until school is over. 5 minutes until I am free. 5 minutes until I am –  
  
"Ms. Summers?"  
  
I glance sharply at my teacher. He must've noticed my day dreaming. Well, how could he not? I was staring at the clock like I was a fat kid, and the clock was cake.  
  
"Yeah?" I ask, clearly not knowing what the hell he wants.  
  
He stutters a bit. "D-d-do you know the..." He clears his throat, "The answer to number thirty-four."  
  
I take a look at my text book and then stare at him. "No." I state, quickly throwing another glance at the clock. 2:57 DAMN IT! It's only been 2 minutes?!  
  
Mr. Giles nods at me and looks around the class. I see Willow's hand straight up in the air, anxious to be answered. Rolling my eyes, I take a piece of gum out of my purse and casually chew it. We're not allowed to chew gum in class, for some stupid reason, but I'm not afraid Mr. Giles is going to yell at me. He doesn't yell at anyone. He's not threat at all. Mr. Giles is a tweed-lovin' British man who was the librarian for most of my time here at Sunnydale High, but has recently been teaching History to the seniors because our original teacher broke her foot suspiciously. We all joke about how she did it on purpose because she hated us so much, but nothings been proven yet.  
  
The bell rings loudly and I jump out of my desk, grab my books and hurry out of class. I wait outside the door for Willow to come out. When she does, we fall in to step with one another, and arrive at our lockers.  
  
"So Buffy, I was meaning to ask what possessed you to wear that outfit?" Willow says, with an eyebrow raised.  
  
I laugh, remembering Angel's words this morning. 'That outfit. You're wearing that to school? Every guy in school is going to be all over you.' And he was pretty much right. Percy, the star of the basketball team kept trying to ask me on a date and Xander kept staring at my legs at lunch. There were many other incidents as well.  
  
"What? This old thing?" I say, gesturing to my outfit. It was pretty hot out today, so I wore a tight green tank top that matched my eyes and a dangerously short skirt and as an accessory, my beautiful Prada bag. I tuck a piece of hair behind my eat and open my locker, "You know, Will... I think we need to go shopping."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because, we need to find you a sexy outfit." I answer, wiggling my eye brows at her.  
  
She looks aghast and shakes her head repeatedly. "No, no, no, no, no."  
  
"And why not? I know you already catch a few eyes but you'll catch even more if you dress a little--"  
  
Willow cuts me off, "No! I don't want to catch eyes I just wanna be me. Overalls and all." I smile at her pink fuzzy overalls and can't help but remember an outfit like that I used to wear when I was six. Nodding I say, "Okay, Will. Whatever floats your boat."  
  
She grins triumphantly and closes her locker. Just then, some guy with red hair walks by Willow, his placid face turning in to what looks like a slight smile. Willow smiles back, watching him as he walks through the doors. Her cheeks are bright pink when she looks back at me.  
  
"Who was that?" I ask, grabbing my satchel and following her out the door.  
  
"Daniel Osborne. Or, Oz to most people." She says, still blushing.  
  
"Isn't he in the Dingoes?" The Dingoes, actually known as A Dingoe Ate My Baby, are the best band that has ever performed at the Bronze. Willow and I used to admire their lead singer from afar, or at least I used to. What? He was hot! Just because I love Angel doesn't mean I don't notice other guys. Anyway, Willow never really commented on their lead singer, but she always told me how she loved their guitarists hair. It changed from day to day, she used to say. We haven't seen them at the Bronze lately, though.  
  
"Yeah, he is. He's their guitarist. Remember?"  
  
I nod as we walk out on to the school steps next to Doyle and Cordelia. The weirdest couple EVER. Doyle, a cute Irish man who is kind, sweet, and funny. And then there's Cordelia, a stuck up, blunt, ice princess. She hasn't changed a bit since they started dating, although Doyle has gone on and on for days about how much she's changed. I still think she's the devil. Seriously, one year she dressed up as one and after that now all I see when I see her is devil horns peeking out of that bush of dark hair.  
  
Doyle finally got Cordelia to ditch her so called friends, who are just airhead if you ask me...but you probably won't ask me so I'll, uh...stop talking.  
  
"Doyle, I think I'm having a major crisis. The "Harm-ettes" or whatever Harmony is calling my old friends now, are terrorizing me! They keep calling me stupid and stuff." I shake my head at Cordelia's voice. Wow, it's amazing how dumb she sounds.  
  
"Ah, princess. It's going to be alright. I'll protect you from them." He smiles at her and winks at Willow and I. We smile back.  
  
"Like hell you could! You can't protect anything, you little Irish man!" She shoots back at him, fire in her eyes.  
  
Doyle frowns, and then laughs. "Oh, Cordy. What would I do without you?" He hugs her and much to my surprise, she hugs him back. Willow and I watch this exchange with curiosity...it's almost like we're watching a lion and a tiny monkey hug in a zoo. What if that seriously happened? That would be awesome. I mean... could it really happen? I don't think so, it's kind of impossible. A monkey would probably be freakin' out and a lion would want to eat it...  
  
I just realized I was actually thinking about a monkey and a lion hugging for a total amount of 4 minutes. How lame my mind is.  
  
Xander bursts through Sunnydale's doors and runs up to us shouting something incoherent until he sees Cordelia and Doyle hugging. He stops and cringes. "Why? Why, God, why?" He says, then turns to us.  
  
"Guys, are we Bronzin' it tonight or what?" Xander says, looking at me and Willow.  
  
"Sure, I'm in." I nod, and we both look to Willow, who shrugs. "I don't know guys, I've got homework—"  
  
"Homework shmoomerk, we're hanging at the Bronze tonight!" He exclaims and does a little dance. I laugh and glance at Willow who still looks uncertain. "I hear the Dingoes are going to be there tonight." I lie, and see Willow instantly perk up.  
  
"Alright, I'll go." She says.  
  
"Great!" Xander and I say together.  
  
Boy, Willow's going to be pissed when she finds out I lied. Heh...oh well, she'll get over it.  
  
Next thing I notice is large arms wrapped around me stomach and a chin rested on my shoulder. I smile, giddily. "Angel, how was your day?"  
  
"Crap." He answers, plainly. "What are we doing tonight?"  
  
"Bronze, of course. What else?"  
  
He guffaws and shakes slightly, making me laugh as well.  
  
My life is pretty damn good right now.  
  
And knowing how crappy life is, I probably just jinxed myself.  
  
Crap.  
  
Alright, chapter two down! I'll hopefully be coming back with the third one soon. I don't exactly know where I'm going with this so suggestions would be great. I've got a few tricks up my sleeve, but some of them are kind of crappy, and I'm ready to ditch them. So if you've got an idea about this story, please don't hesitate to tell me! And remember to review! Always, always, remember to review. 


	3. Changes

Author: Emba  
  
Disclaimer: Not again....  
  
Rating: There is minor curses in here, so I say PG-13... don't say I didn't warn you  
  
Authors Note: Sorry for lack of updates, I've been busy. I was in Washington DC for about a week, and now I'm a counselor at my high school's basketball camp. I was planning on updating last Monday, but I forgot. Alright, on to the chapter!

* * *

"Hey, Angel." I hear from behind me. I don't need to turn and see who it is.  
  
It's Gwen.  
  
That bitch.  
  
Oh, right...you don't know Gwen. Well, let me fill you in on her.  
  
Gwen Sterling is extremely thin with big eyes, too much eyeliner, unnatural red highlights, and ugly white gloves. Oh, and she's a slut! No, no...she's not just a SLUT, she's a HUGE SLUT. She's the biggest slut I know. She's like...the patron saint of sluts...Is there a patron saint of sluts? I mean, there could be. There are patron saints of cooks and bakers, so why not sluts? I bet there are, and I just don't know because –  
  
"How's your night, Angel?" She purrs, inching toward Angel. Ugh..what a slut.  
  
Right now, the gang and I are at the Bronze, enjoying our night. It was a pretty good night until Slutty McSlutterson ...er, I mean Gwen, came walking in with her high boots and white gloves. It's like she's going for a Michael Jackson look or something. And I'm pretty sure that's not going to work well because she will only attract little boys.  
  
As I was saying... Gwen has come to Sunnydale pretty recently. She came in the middle of freshmen year. Of course, the Scoobies and I tried to befriend her, but she drove us away and unleashed her inner slut. She didn't used to be a hooch. She came to Sunnydale with thick glasses and she wore long skirts and blouses. Now, she wears too deep V-neck shirts and leather pants that look like they could cut off circulation. It's ridiculous, really.  
  
Anyway, that's not that only reason I hate her. She's also been after Angel since Sophmore year. Angel says that she creeps him out but, he also admitted that she was "hot"..or was it "bangin'"? Ugh. I forget what he said but I do remember after he said that I "accidently" spilt a pot of coffee all over the front of his jeans. He hasn't talked about her since.  
  
"Uh... my night's good." Angel says hastily. Angel and I are sitting at the table that Cordy, Doyle, Xander, Anya, and Willow abandoned to go dancing.  
  
"You look lonely." She sends an evil smirk towards me, and then continues on staring at Angel.  
  
Angel looks uncomfortable, "I'm not." He says, firmly.  
  
I send my own evil smirk at Gwen. "Are you sure, Angel? Because, I'd be happy to—"She starts, looking almost disappointed at Angel's answer.  
  
"You know what, Angel? I think everyone was right. That outfit DOES make Gwen look like a hooker." I reply, as coolly as possible.  
  
Gwen ignores me and moves in on Angel. "Come on. I'll buy you a drink. I have a fake ID and the bartender hasn't questioned it for years, I'll get you a beer."  
  
"No thanks." He answers, looking stoic.  
  
"But—"  
  
"Obviously he doesn't want you hanging around tonight, Gwen. How about you go and find the missing pieces to that outfit?" I say, almost seething.  
  
Gwen looks pretty perturbed, before her eyes bore right in to mine. Now she's pissed.  
  
"If he wants to hang around with you tonight, then he must not want to get laid." She hisses. OH DEAR LORD.  
  
I stare at her, my eyes wide with shock. WHAT A BITCH!!! Before, I thought she was just a slut...now she's been upgraded to a bitch!  
  
I know I'm blushing, because my face burns the worst that it ever has.  
  
Angel and I have not discussed the subject of sex yet. We haven't been dating that long. But, still it's a touchy subject... no pun intended...  
  
Now, I feel like a prude. A stupid, huge prude. I HATE GWEN STERLING.  
  
Gwen smiles at Angel and says, "Night, Angel," and with that...she walks out of the Bronze. And hopefully out of my life. I've never hated someone so much...well, actually...there's my Dad, but she's right after my dad. I can't BELIEVE she would say that! That's low, and when I say low I MEAN low. Who does that? I'm still blushing from her comment. And how does she know that we don't—  
  
"Buffy?" I'm torn from my thoughts by Angel, who is looking apologetic.  
  
"I'm gonna go." I say quickly before hoping off the stool and getting the hell outta there. I know it's not good to run from your problems, but it's the best idea I can think of at this moment.

* * *

I walk to my house, glad that Angel didn't run after me. I need to think things through. We have been getting hot and heavy lately... but that doesn't mean we should—or that I should—or that we have to... It's no use. I can't think about this. I'll talk to Willow in the morning, and hopefully she'll make me feel a little bit better.  
  
I approach my house, my head low and my eyes to the ground. Then, I hear voices. I look around and finally see that the voices and coming from MY house. Who the hell is at my house besides my mother? I run up and burst through the door to find—  
  
"Buffy!" My mother yells, looking scandalized.  
  
I look at her. She's sitting there, looking quite comfortable with... Mr. GILES. MY TEACHER. MY STUTTER BRITISH TEACHER.  
  
"W-what's...what's going on?" I say, shakily. This is not of the good.  
  
They are sitting on my couch, CUDDLING. Oh LORD. My mother shouldn't be cuddling with anyone. EVER. I grimace at the scene in front of me. My mom jumps up, away from him, and that's when I finally get a good look at Mr. Giles. His face is bright red and he is cleaning his glasses thoroughly. Oh, and he's stuttering under his breath.  
  
"Buffy, you know Mr. Giles, I believe." I nod, but I can't comprehend this. Why are Mr. Giles and my MOM looking cozy together...  
  
Oh wow. It just clicked. All those times she was out because of a "client"...that surprise concert she went to. She was with him all those times!  
  
My mom obviously notices my revelation and smiles. "Yes, Buffy, I am dating Mr. Giles."  
  
This night is getting better and better.  
  
Sorry, this one is pretty short. I'm planning on getting the next one out real soon. I'm going on vacation next week, but when I come back, I'll get it done. Oh yes and about the Michael Jackson joke, I'm sorry I couldn't resist. If you're a Michael Jackson fan, I'm sorry, I just thought that joke was hilarious. REVIEW! And give me any ideas you have! Thanks to all the people that reviewed my second chapter, I loved all the reviews ;) 


	4. The Answering Machine

**Author**: Emba 

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything.

**Rating**: The word sex is used a few times. I just thought I would share this... so I'll give the rating PG-13? Ugh, I don't know anything about this rating crap...I'm just trying not to get in trouble with ...

**Authors Note**: I'm updating! I just had this huge urge to update so...I did. Enjoy.

* * *

"You, my mother, are dating Mr. Giles, my teacher? Does this sound wrong to anyone else?" I ask incredulously.

"Honey..." She trails off, not knowing what to say.

Mr. Giles is standing there, twitching nervously. I can't help by feel seething anger rise in me again. He's going to take my mother away from me—Oh wow. I can't believe I just thought that.

I swallow down my pride and clear my throat. "How did you guys meet?" I say. "And when?" I add quickly.

My mom sighs and looks at Mr. Giles who is STILL a twitching mess. You would think that he would _hel_p my mother in explaining rather than clean his glasses. Jerk. "Well, Buffy... Rupert was at my gallery around last year, looking to buy a painting from the artist Dela—"

"Let's skip the art crap and get right down to the point." I interrupt her as I tap my foot impatiently on the ground.

She sighs again, looking irritated. "We met, hit it off, and have been going out to dinner every Friday night since. And sometimes Thursdays." She pauses, "And Tuesdays."

I grimace slightly. All those nights I was left to fend for myself, I was almost left starving...well, maybe it wasn't that bad, but leftovers are the things nightmares are made of and you can quote me on that.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner? I don't understand." I really don't understand. If she's been going out with this guy for a whole year, why didn't she just tell me?

Another sigh. If my mother sighs ONE MORE TIME I SWEAR I'LL—"I was afraid. I knew how much your father hurt you. And I didn't know how you were going to handle this."

Typical Mom answer. I sigh now too, my anger relenting gradually. "Fine. You're dating someone. I'm accepting this and now I'm going to bed." I turn and run up the stares before you can say "coward". I really do need to face my problems. All I do is run away from everything. My new nickname could be _Runnie_...or _The Runster_. I do need a life in the worst way.

I enter my bedroom and glance and my phone to find four messages on there. "Strange," I mutter. No one ever leaves messages on my phone. No one. This is the highest amount of messages I've ever gotten. One time, there was this new restaurant near the Bronze. I had been talking about the restaurant all week and begged the gang all to go with me there one night. They agreed, but we didn't talk about which night. Anyway, I fell asleep after school one day after school. Then next day, Angel picks me up and says, "That restaurant you wanted to go to is _really _good. I hate almost 5 dinner selections there. You should go." I was very bitter after that. Angel says he called me and called me but no one picked up so THEY WENT ANYWAY. I asked him WHY he didn't leave a message and his answer was, "I hate leaving messages." So, needless to say, I almost **never **sleep after school now in case I miss out on something cool.

I push the button on my machine and listen as my ears are filled with Willows voice. I am instantly reminded of Gwen, her slutty-ness and my virginity. Uggggh. "Oooh Buffy! How are you? What happened? I heard ALL about it...well, not really... But, I guessed! So my guess is that Gwen Sterling was hitting on Angel and then insulted you in some way and you stormed off? Am I correct?" Wow...she's good. "Anyway, I'm really sorry Buffy. Don't listen to that idiot slut Gwen. She's probably carrying 20 STD's. We should really be feeling sorry for her." I laugh loudly and admire my best friend's ever-present ways to make me happy. "Alright, call me or we'll talk tomorrow. Night!"

Next message: "Buffster! It's Xand. Listen, I know you're having a bad night, but I'm calling to cheer you up. I'm just sad we haven't been hangin' lately and I really want to hang with you ...more. Ya know? To put it in unmanly words, I miss you. A lot. Anya is taking up a lot of my time, what with the smooching and the dancing and the make-outs...so I want us to hang. We'll talk tomorrow. I love ya, Buff!" Awww, Xander. It's the true, we haven't been hanging out lately. Awww, I'm so shocked that he called. That's so sweet.

Next message: "Hi, Buffy," CORDELIA? "It's Cordelia. Yeah, I know...this is weird of me to call you...but, uh, Doyle's making me ask if you feel better and—"I hear Doyle's muffled voice in the background hissing, "Cordelia! You're not supposed to _tell _her I made you call! The first step to being a better person is to make nice with people, not sound like a brat! Now...where's the alcohol?" Cordelia clears her throat, "Anyway, I wanted to know if you felt okay, cuz everyone saw how you ran out at the Bronze and we were all pretty worried... well, I wasn't really, cuz you've done it before so—"Doyle screams her name in warning again. "So, I'll see you at school tomorrow. I hope you aren't too emotionally damaged to talk fashion with me. Night!"

That was interesting. Cordelia has never called me before in my life... I guess it was sweet of her, even if Doyle forced her in to it. Doyle's a good guy, he deserves much more than tactless Cordelia Chase.

Last message: "Buffy... it's me." Oh God, Angel... wait, he's leaving a message on my machine? "I know I told you I hate leaving messages and you're probably wondering why I've changed my mind about leaving messages but...I wanted to say, I'm sorry about Gwen. She was a bitch and you didn't deserve that. I don't want to be pushy about...you know—what she said and all that..." I swear Angel can't say SEX to me or in my presence. "So, don't worry about it. I don't think I'm ready either...Oh Lord this is embarrassing... We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" And with that my messages are over.

I change in to my pajamas and collapse in to my bed, curling in a ball under my covers. This is really difficult. Talking to my boyfriend/best friend about having sex... Joy. I'm so excited... If you didn't notice, I was using sarcasm.

Hmm...I wonder what crap tomorrow will bring me.

* * *

Alright, forth chapter down! Wooo! I know, it's definitely not long, but I wrote this in about...20 minutes and then I lost my muse. So, be thankful. Thanks to all the reviewers, I love you guys! And keep reviewing, please, please, please, please, please! Until next time...adios. 


	5. The Cold Shoulder?

**Author:** Emba 

**Disclaimer:** I'm starting to get sick of this friggin' thing. THEY AREN'T MINE.

**Rating:** PG-13. Just cuz of some cursing and such. Don't say you weren't warned. 

**Authors Note:** It's been a while. I've been really busy, so I haven't been able to write at all, I'm really sorry.

* * *

"Buffy! Wake up, dear! You're going to be late!" No, I don't want to wake up. 

"Five... more...minutes..." Yeah, that sounds nice...five more minutes...

"BUFFY! GET OUT OF BED, RIGHT NOW!"

I jump at my mother's raised voice and fly out of my bed. Oh GOD. I have to go to _school_ today. Just like every freakin' day.

I walk down the stairs in a sleepy daze. Shuffling through the kitchen, I catch my mother's eye and she frowns at me. "You're upset about Mr. Giles and I, aren't you?"

Aw man. I thought I was dreaming that... OH CRAP, that means I wasn't dreaming about Gwen calling me a virgin right in the middle of the Bronze. I thought that last night was all a strange, twisted nightmare. I was wrong, apparently.

"No, not really." I reply. And it's true...I'm not really upset about Mr. Giles and that stuff. It's just weird..._really_ weird. I used to think that my dad would come back to me, and be my dad again. But, it feels like forever since I've even gotten a birthday card or a phone call or anything. I shake off the sad feelings and turn back to my mom.

My mom nods at this, and returns to reading the paper or whatever the hell she's doing. I hastily eat a banana and then run up the stairs to get changed. I have about ten minutes till Angel comes and I am in NO WAY looking forward to this.

* * *

"Angel's here, honey!"

I look over my outfit once more: Hip-hugging jeans and thin, tight white v-neck long sleeved shirt. Sounds good to me. I manage to fix my French twist quickly and race out the door.

"Hey," He says when I get in his hunk of junk car. It's so weird how much he loves this piece of crap.

"Hi," I answer him quietly. I'm not looking forward to this conversation.

I wait for him to say something about last night... But, there's nothing. Not a thing. I look up from my lap to see that we're halfway to school now. He hasn't said a word.

Before I know it, we're at school. This is probably the first morning since we started dating that we haven't made out before school and been late for class. I sigh sadly at the thought. What if he's mad? No...he would've said that last night on my answering machine. I look up to see Angel already out of the car and walking away.

I slowly get out of the car and trudge in to school and head towards homeroom. This is going to be a long day, I can tell.

* * *

"I think he's mad at me, Will."

"Why would he be mad at you? There's no reason for him to be mad at you! He's just..." She searches for a word.

"Giving me the cold shoulder?" I say, finishing the sentence for her. "Angel hasn't spoken to me all day. He's...different." Ever since this morning Angel hasn't said a thing to me. We even have six out of eight periods together and we sit near each other and still NOTHING. What did I do to make him act so...weird around me?

"I'm sure it's nothing, Buffy. He's probably just..." She sighs, not knowing what else to say. "I can't think of what would have made him mad. He's probably just—"

"Flirting with Gwen right now?" I finish her sentence again, my eyes locked on two figures talking near by a tree.

"What?"

It's lunchtime and I _REALLY_ wanted to talk to Willow about Angel, so I took her out side Sunnydale High. We are sitting under the shade of a big tree, discussing Angel when I saw him TALKING WITH GWEN. SLUT GWEN. STUPID, IDIOTIC GWEN.

"Look at them... they're flirting... Angel's flirting with other girls." I whimper, tears already brimming in my eyes.

Willow looks concerned and tries to hug me. "Oh, Buffy...no..."  
  
I push her away gently and stand up. "I have to get out of here, Will. I'll see you after school." I walk away quickly before she can reply or come after me.

What the hell's going on? Why's Angel being so stupid? What did I do? I thought everything was going well other than the sex thing, but STILL he can't be mad about me not wanting to have sex yet, that's stupid and—

So lost in my sad thoughts, I didn't even notice bumping in to someone. I land on my ass...and not too gracefully either. I must look like such a dumb ass. I refuse to look up at the person. They're probably pissed. "Sorry, I-I didn't see you." I sniffle, trying to wipe some running mascara.

I look up to see a hand... a guy's hand. "'S alright, luv." I look up to see none other than Spike, the bad ass of the school...and one of Scott Hope's good friends. I instantly become even more nervous. I dumped Scott! Spike probably hates my ever-lovin' guts!

I grasp his hand and he lifts me up gently. He looks at me strangely, like...different than the few times we've met before. I can't quite put my finger on it..."You all right, pet?"

I am pretty much startled by the gentleness in his voice. No one told me Mr. Badass could also be Mr. Goodass...? That didn't make much sense. He does have a good ass though...not that I was looking... Well, he is _really _hot. And the accent...don't even get me started. His accent is husky and just plain sexy...he's just like the spokesperson for sexy, he's so sexy—Oh my God. What am I thinking?! I'm dating someone!

My cheeks are already heating up...Ugh, I HATE IT WHEN I BLUSH IN FRONT OF HOT GUYS!

I shake my head at him. There's no use in lying... I'm not all right. He hands me a tissue and dab my eyes with it. "Thanks," I mutter gratefully.

He looks around for a moment and then looks back to me. "Isn't that your boyfriend...Nancy boy, over there?" I look to see Angel and Gwen STILL FLIRTING LIKE MAD. He could've at least done the flirting discreetly instead of OUT IN THE OPEN WHERE EVERYONE CAN SEE AND HAS SEEN. A new wave of tears washes over me and I nod faintly.

"He's an ass hole then." I can only sigh. "If you treat a girl as beautiful as you like that wanker is, than you're just begging for a good beating..." He pauses, "And I can provide that beating on him, if you'd like..."

I almost don't know if he's serious or not, but I would REALLY like to take him up on his offer. Angel being mad at me is making the kind of sense that's not. Why can't I sick Spike on him and maybe—Then, Spike grins at my lack of words. I chuckle. "Ya know, as much as I would _love _to see Angel beaten to a bloody pulp right now... I think I'll pass. Thanks though." I offer him a watery smile and then I notice my tears are gone.

He smiles back, his eyes gazing in to mine. I almost lose myself in his eyes for a moment ... it's like one of those moments on a popular sit-com on TV when the girl looks at the guy and he looks back and they stare and it's so romantic and—

"You sure you're alright, pet?" I realize that I was staring at him for a long period of time. You see how digression is a very uncommon disease? I think that maybe I should start a worldwide search of others like myself who digress too much. Wow, I'm such a freak.

"Yeah. I'll be fine, thanks," I smile up at him and he smiles back...a genuine smile... not like those other smiles I see him smile...It's real this time.

We stay like this for a moment and I absorb the weirdness of it all. Me and Spike making a connection? Him consoling me about Angel? This is weird crap.

"Listen, my mates having a party tomorrow night. Why don't you come with me?"

I ponder this for a minute. Spike is being really nice right now...but I've heard rumors about him. Not the nice, fluffy kind of rumors...(are there any nice fluffy rumors, _**ever**_?) But, bad rumors. "Umm... I don't know...I'll get back to you on that one."

Spike grins, somehow he's happy with my answer. "Brilliant. So, I'll see you around, Buffy." He winks at me and saunters away, his leather coat flapping behind him.

Wait...did Spike say he thought I was BEAUTIFUL? And did he just ask me out on a date? Wait, wait, wait, stop the presses...this is way too random. He's never even talked to me other than the few times I was with Scott and he said 'Hey' and all that jazz...But, now he's like 'You're to my friends party.'

Weird...

But, he was being really sweet about Angel.

Ya know, sometimes I wonder if my life could get more complicated and then BOOM—more complications added to the worst complicated situations.

Joy.

Is it just me or am I really sarcastic? Hmm...

Wow, I really need to talk to Willow.

* * *

"Wills! Wait up!" I call to her, trying to catch up as she begins to take a stroll home. She lives pretty close to me and I am certainly not getting a ride with Angel, so I've decided to walk home with her.

Willow turns to me and waits. Her cheeks are pink... she's got a huge smile on... "Spill it, Will." I say. I know Willow too well. That look is the look of happiness. And maybe even...love.

She giggles and smiles brightly at me. "Oz asked me out."  
  
"Aww..." I sigh, temporarily forgetting my own crappy life and listening to her story.

"Member at your birthday party when I bumped in to him and we were talking?" I search my mind and found it in the back of it somewhere. My mind is like an attic filled with useless crap... "Well, he said he couldn't stop thinking about me after that. And today after you went...away...at lunch...Oh, Buffy, how are you about that? Did you talk to Angel?"

I wave her questions off. "Go on with your story! My miseries can be explained later! I wanna hear about Oz and the 'I'm asking you out' conversation."

She smiles at me thankfully and continues. "He just came up to me and told me he liked me, and told me I was cute and beautiful and all and he's so nice...I like him." She sighs and stares off in to space.

"That's great, Will! I am so happy you found yourself a hottie. This is big news. We are celebrating tonight at the Bronze. We'll even order a cake that says: _Willow's Found Herself A Hot Band Guy!_"

Willow smiles lazily and laughs at my words. "Sounds like a plan. Our date is Friday night—It's in two days! I'm SO excited! You gotta help me get an outfit... and maybe, we'll buy some perfume, but you know how I don't want to give off the wrong attention, like slutty attention 'cuz you know how bad that can turn out, I'm not that kinda girl, I am sooo—"

I almost laugh out loud at her rambling. She needs to stop drinking caffeine...it's really damaging her resilience to fast paced rambles. Her mom's going to think she's on speed one day, and I'm going to be the one say 'I told you so...'"Will! Chill. I'll help you and everything."

"Great!" She pauses, her smile fading a bit and her eyes turn to me compassionately. "Now, tell me about everything..."

I sigh and begin to tell her my day...

**TBC**

* * *

Well, there's chapter 5. Did you like the introduction of Spike? Or not? I didn't really plan it, but then it just popped in to my head like a...thing that pops in to peoples heads...Anyways, please review! And thanks to the people who reviewed my last chapter, I love you guys! See ya next chapter! 


	6. Taking Charge

**Author:** Emba

**Disclaimer:** I swear I don't own it. If I did my name would be JOSS, and I'd be one crazy guy.

**Rating:** Hmmm…PG?

**A/N:** Special thanks to my reviewers and my readers. You guys make my year. I also wanted to comment on the pairing of this fic. It will ALWAYS be B/A, my friends. Always. Don't worry about strange Spuffy happenings, cuz it won't happen. I'm really sorry this took _so long_ to get out but I've been busy like crazy. Alright, enough of my crap, on to the chapter…

* * *

I managed to avoid Angel after I talked to Willow. She consoled me about him and was taken aback about Spike. She doesn't like him much. She _says_ he punched Oz one time…but who knows? Spike is just a straight up wild card.

"I successfully avoided Angel when I got home. I still don't understand what's going on. Maybe he'll say something in the car tomorrow?" Willow and I are currently on the phone, going over all the crappy things that happened today.

"Maybe. But, you know Angel…he'll probably put on his—"

"Brood-face and sulk and give me the wonderful sounds of silence." I finish the sentence for her with ease.

"You got it. He's just one…broody guy. Maybe he should seek a career in it?" I laugh quietly and Willow, who is only trying to cheer me up. My heart still aches when I hear his name.

"What does he see in Gwen? She's totally skanky. She'll probably give him 8 STD's just by touching him. I can't believe this is happening…is this my fault? What'd I do wrong? I mean, I know I'm not so willing just to have sex so quickly but can't he have a little respect? I mean honestly—"

I take a gulp of breath as Willow cuts me off of my ramble. "Buffy, calm down. It'll all be okay. I bet he and her just… just…" I know she can't find a good explanation for it all.

"See? There's no way to explain it." I whimper. "He wants sex. That's GOT to be it."

"Oh, Buffy…I'm sure that's not it. Just…ask him tomorrow. He'll probably give you this good, plausible explanation and you guys will cuddle and be fluffy again."

I smile through my few tears. This is sooooo difficult. I never thought I'd have to go through this with Angel. "Alright, alright…I'll chat with him tomorrow. But if he's a bastard about it—"

"I'll kick his sorry butt!" I can almost see Willow saying this with her infamous resolve face on.

"You got your resolve face on?"

"Yes, indeedy." She confirms proudly. I laugh and say, "Thanks, Will. For everything."

"No problem. What're best friends for?"

"Night, Will."

"Good night, Buffy. Sweet dreams!"

* * *

I woke up extra early the next morning, which is _EXTREMELY_ hard for me. I was actually ready when I heard Angel's lame car horn signal his arrival. I sighed and leisurely walked out the door. I'm _so_ not looking forward to confrontation. I'm the worst at confrontation…almost more horrible at it than Willow, which is really saying something 'cuz Willow's just a little kitten in a human's body…hmm..weird image.

I hop in the car and sigh really loudly before I take a good look at him. He's staring straight ahead as he grunts out a hello. "Angel…we need to talk." I said, unsurely.

He begins to drive as he responds, "About what?"

I can feel the anger rising in me at his stupid question. '_About what'_?! WHAT DOES HE THINK? "About this cold-shoulder you've been giving me. Oh! And that whole Gwen-flirting-stunt that you had at school yesterday. Yeah, I definitely saw that so don't even deny it."

He makes a weird squeaking kind of sound that almost sounds like he's trying to say too many things at once. "Listen, Buffy. Gwen and I weren't flirting we were just—"

"Talking? Please, Angel." I pause for a second. "You like her, don't you? You think she's "bangin'", right? And she'll give it up easier than me, right? That's why you like her."

"Buffy, what're you _talking_ about?" He tries and keeps his eyes on the road but he keeps looking at me angrily.

"What am I talking about? I'm talking about the other night when Gwen humiliated me. And you didn't even say a thing. I'm talking about how ALL of yesterday you completely ignored me. I'm talking about how I saw you having a CIVILIZED conversation with Gwen when you wouldn't even look at me. If you have a problem, why won't you tell me?"

"I just…" I heard the loud sounds of several beeping cars pass us by. Angel's almost driving right in to them! Dumb ass!

"Stop the car!" I bark at him. He looked at me, taken aback. "What?"

"You heard me. You're gonna get us in to an accident, so PLEASE stop the car."

He pulls over somewhere not too far away from our school. I look at him. He has bags under his eyes, probably from lack of sleep. His hands grip the wheel with great strength. "Are you going to answer me?"

"But I don't, Buffy … I just—"

"You just what?" My eyes are tearing up _real_ quick like. Oh, this isn't good.

"I-I don't know." He says looking more than a little confused. This only makes me angrier.

I bite my lip as my hand gropes for the pull to open the car door. "I'll walk to school." I say heatedly as I jump out of the car and slam the door.

I cross my arms over my chest and stomp my way to school. God, I hate issues.

* * *

"Then, he said he "didn't know". Why doesn't he know? Why can't he just…" I look up at Willow with sad eyes. "Why is this happening? I love him, Will."

Willow and I sit on the floor of the girl's bathroom. We skipped 2nd period because the teacher never even notices we're there. I sniff and grab the tissue Willow hands me. "It's going to be okay, Buffy. I promise."

"You don't know that. Something's wrong with him…there's something he's not telling me. He doesn't do this kind of stuff—"

"Buffy, he's just a horny guy who is confused and broody. Just…give him time."

"I don't _want_ to give him time. I want to understand." I sigh again. "If he can flirt with Gwen…then I can go to that party with Spike."

Willow's eyes bulge out of the sockets. She looks scared for a moment before she shakes her head frantically. "No, no, no, no, no Buffy, no. I don't think that's such a good idea."

I stand up and wipe my running makeup quickly. "Why not? I'll be totally in control of the situation. I'll go to the party, have a good time, get to know Spike, and make Angel jealous all at the same time. It's perfect."

She stands up next to me and looks over me with an unsure look on her face. "Buffy, I don't know…"

"Listen, Will…I'm doing this. I have to. I just…I need to do something other than stress about Angel, grades, home life…I need to let loose a bit."

"Not too loose, right?" Willow asks with narrowed eyes.

"No, not too loose. I will be semi-loose." I say, with a hint of a smile on my face.

She nods, "Okay. Just…be careful with him…alright?"

"I will."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Cross your heart?"

"Cross my heart."

"Hope to—"

I stop her. "Okay, Will! You took it a little too far."

She looks slightly sheepish. "Sorry. I just.. worry."

"It's gonna be fine."

_Everythings gonna be fine. _I think to myself before we walk out of the bathroom and in to a sea of people.

Alright now I gotta find Spike…

* * *

Yes, I know, short chapter but I really wanted to update and make everyone happy. And I also know that you're gonna be pissed about the Spike/Buffy hints. My reasoning for it? I just like to see you guys squirm. Review! 


	7. How To Help a Girl Out

**Disclaimer: **(I'm still too afraid to write a chapter without this) I OWN NADDA.

**Authors Note: **Holy CRAP. It has been a WHILE. More than a while… kinda like…a long …time. As you can see, I'm not as witty as I used to be. I've changed this year, but the good kinda changes, mostly. I read some of this again and I really just want to finish it. I wanna get it out there and over with and make people happy and make me happy. So. Here goes nothin'.

**AN #2:** I know Willow's date with Oz comes after the party with Spike, but I think it works better this way and I'm not in the mood to re-write anything. Ever. So sorry about this, but it ain't changing again I swear!

--

"Oh, _Willow_." I yelled in a little sing-song voice. "I come baring gifts."

I could hear her feet slam down the stairs as I stood in the doorway. Tonight was Willow's big night, I HAD to be here.

"What kinda gif—Oh." Her reaction was what I was expecting. I grin happily and drop a bag of my own clothes on her hands.

"These, my friend, are my secret weapons." I say, cheekily. "Now, follow me we are going to find you an outfit!" I run up her stairs in to her beige colored room. I took a look around. It looked slightly better than the last time. She used to have just her bed, a dresser, and a desk adorning her boring room, but I managed to spruce it up a bit. I added green tapestry, a colorful bedspread, and multi-colored pillows to liven up the room. The rest I left to her. She thankfully has added a MIRROR to her room now and a few more pictures of our friends.

I hear Willow's sigh before she event enters the room. "Buffy, these clothes…they're too pretty. They aren't me." She frowns like she just lost her puppy.

"Willow, I never want to hear those words outta your mouth again. Now you march yourself in to that bathroom and try this on!" I stuff my hand in the bag and shove a skirt and shirt in her face.

She takes it, albeit reluctantly, and literally marches herself in to the bathroom. I giggle at the sight. "OH, Buffy, how was that talk with Spike?"

I shrug and sit on her bed. "Fine. He was cute and gentlemanly," I grin, remembering his surprise that I had actually said yes. "He thought I was going to back out."

Willow's gasp is audible even through the bathroom door. Jeez, that's quite the gasp. "Now you _have _to go."

I could feel my brow scrunching without even noticing. I probably resemble a blonde haired Shar Pei…CRAP, which reminds me my dog has probably destroyed half my room by now, seeing as I left him in there. CRAPPPPPP.

"Wait, what?"

"Well, in my experience, whenever someone tells you one thing, you do the other."

"Huh?" I'm sure that'd make sense if it was English.

"Member at that 7th grade party when Johnny Bisson said you would never play seven minutes in heaven with someone?" **OH GOD**. I can recall that party like it was yesterday…

Okay maybe not yesterday, more like it was a month ago… so this might be a little blurry…

Imagine a twelve year old me. I'm tiny, too long for its own good blonde hair, and completely flat chested. Come to think of it… I think I'm still flat chested. Anyway, so imagine me, sitting at this kid's party in his basement, drinking some Hawaiian Punch, having a good ol' time…when suddenly everyone wants to play Seven Minutes in Heaven. I'm sure you all know this game. You sit in a dark closet with someone of the opposite sex for seven minutes. Thinking about this made my twelve year old face bright red with embarrassment. SEVEN WHOLE MINUTES! To a 7th grader, this was like having sex, okay? So, somehow (here comes the blurriness) this kid Johnny Bisson (BIG ASSHOLE) with his shiny, slicked back fake New York accent (he was born and raised in Sunnydale CA! He doesn't even have distant relatives in New York!) says to me, "Buffy Summers ain't nevah gonna play dis game, fellas." I swear this kid wanted to be in the Godfather so bad. He even told us he was related to Al Pacino. Big fat liar.

So all I remember is how I saw red. Nobody tells me what I can or cannot do. I don't remember my exact words, but all I remember is Angel's glass adorned face looking at me with sympathy. Then, there I was in the closet with Riley Finn, a cute but extremely tall and dumb boy and we kissed once and then awkwardly talked about the choice of coats that the people had for the rest of the time.

"Yes." I grumble, unhappily.

"Well, that's what I mean. Spike says to you 'I thought you'd back out' and your immediate reaction is 'I CAN'T BACK OUT'. Understand?"

I did understand. But, I didn't care. "Yeah, yeah. Enough about me, come out here and show me the outfit!"

She walks out, her posture stiff and gangly-like, as I knew it would be. But she looks so cute! She's wearing one of my tight, but decent Hollister tee's and a cute denim skirt, that's short but not too short. A nice pair of flip-flops and she's good to go!

"Will! You look so hot! You have to wear that!" I jump up and down excitedly.

"Hello, Rosenburg Residence? I'm looking for a Willow Ros—" The sound of Xanders voice stops, I take a look down the stares to see him staring at Willow. Yayyyyyyyy. The perfect reaction!

I smirk happily in her face. "How does she look, dear Xander?" I pull my best (which is actually _really_ crappy) British accent.

"Scrumptious, my lady. She looks like a lovely swan," He waves his hand dramatically.

Willow cracks a smile at our antics, as we continue to say things like "pompous" and "wanker" and MY FAVORITE "never mind the bollocks".

"See, Will? You look great and now you and Oz can have a nice happy date!" I couldn't be happier.

Willow runs a hand through her short, adorable red hair. She grins at me, "You sure I look okay?"

"Yes! Now, I have to go get ready. But, put this perfume on," I throw some Ralph Lauren at her, "This blush, wear these flip flops, this mascara, and you're good to go!"

Willow looks at me, her arms full of supplies, with a scared look. "You can do it, Willow. I trust you."

Xander perks up immediately. "I can help!"

"No! Do not let him help you!" I call as I dash down the stares.

"Have fun tonight! Be careful!" Willow calls out as I open the door to leave.

The last thing I hear is Xander's perplexed voice, "Where's she going?"

--

Okay. I did it. Wow.

Okay REVIEW SO I HAVE THE WILL POWER TO WRITE MORE. Seriously, my muse is crying.


	8. Gimme Vodka

Remember the days when I updated this and didn't slack off?

Yeah me neither.

--

So, getting ready was harder than I planned. I was having back out thoughts. Real bad ones. Angel is my _boyfriend_ and I am going out with another boy—er, man. Spikes _definitely _a man.

"Honey…" Oh sweet Lord.

"Yes Mom?" My voice even sounds completely annoyed to my own ears.

"Where are you off to tonight?"

"Uhhhh," Oh crap, what was my fake plan for tonight? "The Bronze…"

"Okay, I'm going out with Rupert so don't wait up!" I can almost here her giggle from where I'm sitting in my room.

All I've heard these days is "_Rupert this..."_ and "_Rupert that…" _Honestly. I'm your daughter! Not your girlfriend you tell all your secrets to! This is not _Gilmore Girls_! Mothers and daughters like us do NOT discuss such material. Last night I had a dream that I was sitting in a coffee shop with Willow, Liza Minnelli (don't ask), and my mother (imagine a _Sex and the City_-esque scene). And we all start talking about our sex life… Liza's is very explicit (I think I blushed in my dream), Willow's is even raunchy, and my _mother _raves on and ON ABOUT MR. GILES. And then me….They all stare at me and I say NOTHING. I have no sex life! I have no sex, period.

Talk about your all time creepy dreams. Hearing about your mother having sex, even in a dream, is still a horrifying experience.

I finally decide on an outfit. A deep green low cut tank top, black mini-skirt, ankle boots, and some killer hair. I hear a beep outside and I remember Spike saying he would pick me up at 8:00…It is now 8:15…Hm…fashionably late I guess.

I scurry in to the old Desoto and give him a meager smile. My insides don't feel good about tonight. My gut is saying, "Oh Buffy…you dumb ass." Why did I come here in the first place?

"Hello, luv."

Oh right, that's why.

"Hey, Spike." He is all leathered out. I never thought I'd like the "leather look" but he looks…_sigh._ This is something Angel could never pull off.

Spike gives me a smirk before returning his hands to the wheel and putting the petal to the metal.

….

Actually, I lied. He drives like my grandmom.

No, I lied again…my grandmom drives faster.

"Did I mention you look stunning?" Did _I _mention you drive like a 94 year old?

"Thanks," I smile, "You look good too." He smiles. Maybe his whole image is wrong…If he drives like my Great Aunt Mildred (she's dead. Been dead for 3 years), then maybe he's not an arrogant jackass.

"I know."

Maybe not…

--

The party was at a house in a small basement a few miles off of my house. The guy who was throwing it—Jim…John? Jack?—was apparently obsessed with the female anatomy. The walls were filled with naked ladies. Oh, joy. Good choice, Buffy…Way to follow your gut.

"You want a beer?" Spike asks as he takes my coat. I would sincerely like him to stop being a gentlemen or stop being a jackass cuz I can't figure out which one he is! He's both! Is that possible? To be BOTH an asshole and chivalrous? It can't be…seriously, I—

"Buff?" He looks concerned about me now. Heh.

Oh, right… Beer. Well…I've never been too fond of it. It tastes like blechhhhh gag me. Some would say beer is the safest way to get drunk and not get sick. I say, beer is gross. Gimme vodka.

"I'll just have a shot or…two." Bad choice. Bad, BAD choice.

--

Okay. That's done. Who wants to place bets on when I'll update again?

Oh heyyy, and you better REVIEW! I like it!


	9. BADBADBAD

Disclaimer: Nope, I own not a thing.

Man oh man. It's _only_ been about two years since the last update…Heh…Sorry about that…

Needless to say, I wasn't thinking much about this fic. I actually haven't found a B/A fic worth reading in many years so I lost the fire…the spark…that caused this story to be written. Well, anyways, I reread 'No Longer Hidden' (yeah, great title, pssh…I was so uncreative) earlier today and thought I should really try and get back on track with it. I'm not promising anything (I half expect no one to even read this anymore) but I'm gonna try. And I hope that my writing has improved since I started these stories because DEAR LORD it was atrocious.

* * *

I'm sure one day I'll look back on this night and laugh. I'll chalk it up to up inexperience with alcohol… Perhaps even just immaturity in general…But right now, I'm not laughing. I'm too cranky.

I'll give you a run down of my night (what I can remember) and you can understand for yourself why vodka is BADBADBAD. Not just _bad_ but BADBADBAD. Especially _Buffy_ and vodka. Like mixing oil and water or whatever the hell that saying is.

The party was held at some big basement of a house pretty close to my home. I'd never been to a clichéd high school party before but this looked the part. My friends aren't much with the drinking. Sure, it's okay sometimes but I'm no seasoned vet, that's for damned sure. All I knew was "beer is yucky". That was my knowledge going in to this party where I noticed there were two kegs and a small bar with dozens of bottles. I can only wish that I went in to this party thinking "vodka is BADBADBAD".

Spike—who, unknown to me, was a master of etiquette—had nodded at my request for vodka and was off to get our drinks. I was left to stare at the many posters of Carmen Electra, Pamela Anderson, and nameless naked women that were EVERWHERE. I looked up to get a break from the images but they were even on the ceiling.

The _ceiling_.

At every turn, I saw at least five boobs. Did this…Jack—or was it um…John…er, Jim?—really need to see breasts at all times? Really, what kinda perv—

"Hey, Buffy!" I was, as always, interrupted by my inner ramblings by a voice. I turned and was this time accosted by two chicks making out on the TV. What did I expect from the basement of naked ladies? Of COURSE there'd be porn! Joy, joy, joy.

I stared at the boy in front of me that had called my name. He smiled at me like we were pals. I was at a loss for who this guy was at all. "Uhh, hi."

He smiled at me again and seemed to notice my uncomfortable-ness with the posters, "Yeah, I know my mom doesn't like it either…But whatever, all the guys like it!"

I grimaced at him. Who the hell was this guy? Should I recognize him? Was this Jim/Jack/John? He looked pretty geeky… like a guy who still enjoyed comic books or something. He had dark cropped hair and a X-Men t-shirt on. Um…

I looked around the room. Spike-esque people were here… the kind of people that scare me. Dark make-up for the girls and super tight jeans for the guys (why do they think that's attractive?)…the normal rebel crowd. The Sex Pistols or some old punk British band was playing in the background. I turned to Jim/Jack/John again and realized we were the most out of place people at this party. But at least I looked fashionable…he just looked nerdy.

Spike was back in a flash, a red cup in his hand and a shot glass out in my direction. I shrugged and took it. He looked at Jim/Jack/John and narrowed his eyes. "Yes, Warren?"

Warren, formerly known as Jim/Jack/John, gulped noticeably. "Uhhhhh sorry… I was just saying 'hi' to the new guest. See ya!" He darted away, in the direction of the porn.

"Who the hell was that? And why's he here?" I didn't wanna sound snobby but "Warren" didn't seem like the kind of person Spike would think was cool enough to hang out with. He seemed like the kind of person Spike bit the bloody pulp out of.

Spike chugged his beer before answering me. "That's Warren. This is his place. We pretty much use him for the basement. 'S great party house. His mum's usually out on business or somethin'… Don't pay much attention to that bloke."

I 'hmmm'ed in acknowledgment. He stared at me and my shot glass. "Go ahead, then. Let's see if Buffy Summers can drink."

This is when the night took a dangerous turn. I looked down at my vodka in fear. Oh boy.

"She won't do it."

I turned behind me to see the last person on Earth I would want to see. Gwen Sterling in all her skanky glory. No freakin' way.

"What'd you say?" I was seething now.

"You won't do it. I bet you couldn't even down two shots of vodka."

In hindsight, I should have just punched Gwen in the face or at least kicked her or something…but what I did was way worse. I took her up on the challenge. And then some.

Next thing you know I'm at the bar taking shots like their filled with lemonade. On the outside I was all "haha-Gwen-you-bitch-I-can-drink", but on the inside I was all "OW-MY-THROAT-BURNS". This must've been some cheap ass Vodka because I think fire would've tasted better.

Spike and I were seated with our backs to the porn, him slamming beer after beer and I was slamming shot after shot. Eventually, we combined forces and took shots together. BADBADBAD.

"Hey Buff?" Spike slurred at me, tilting his head to the side and letting his eyes droop.

"What?" I slurred back, heavily intoxicated.

"I love you."

I giggled happily. Everything was funny when he talked. His accent was never so hilarious. "I love you too!"

"No, luv… You've got great shiny hair, a nice wrack, and little tiny hands," He said the last part in a little 'wee' voice. I laughed hysterically.

We giggled together, both of us continuing to feed each other alcohol. "Hmm, isn't that the chit that was flirtin' with your Nancy boy?"

I turned to see Gwen grinding on a guy that I thought was the lead singer of the Dingoes but I was pretty delirious… it could've been Brad Pitt for all I knew. "Yes," I said dramatically, "Yes, that's her. Slutty McSlutterson."

"Right. Bloody slut." He eyed her for a minute and turned back to me. "Are you still with Hair Gelled Man?"

"Hmmmmmmmyes." Yup, I said it all in one word. I was hammered.

He took my hands in his and frowned tragically, "That's a shame." Then the music got louder and people starting dancing all around us.

Things got kinda blurry after that. I'm pretty sure we were drinking whatever was in the bottles around us, unaware what was actually in them. Ohhhh the horror.

Then suddenly, we were walking. Out of the basement and towards my house… I think.

"Buffy?"

"Yes?" About a block from my house, we were holding hands and skipping through the streets. And giggling. Spike giggled very girlishly, by the way.

And suddenly, he was crying. "I miss her Buffy, OH GOD I MISS HER!"

"Wha?" He was on his knees, hugging my legs, and sobbing in to my skirt.

"Drusilla…I miss her. Ya know she introduced me to punk. Yup, she did…we listened to the Clash and Sex Pistols all the time…She bought me this leather jacket…SHE'S GONE!"

I was at a loss for words. "Did she…die?"

"NO! She LEFT ME! I only WISHED she died! It'd be less painful! She was the bloody love of my life! And she just walked out on me…just like that. Said I'd been goin' soft…I didn't like beatin' up geeks anymore…Well, no I didn't…It gets tiring, ya know? I'd rather just verbally intimidate them…" He went on and on and ON.

I was still entirely too drunk for this. I patted his bleached hair while he whimpered in to my legs. "Umm... I gotta go home."

And just like that, we were moving again. He was almost dragging me to the step of my house. "I'm sorry about Drusilla."

"Me too," He said quietly before seizing my shoulders and leaning in to kiss me. Despite my drunken stupor, I knew this was wrong… I knew this was BADBADBAD. No kissing. I squeaked and dodged him, leaning away so he was catching my cheek. He slobbered on me. Ickkk.

"Right uhhh, you've got a wanker boyfriend, hmm?" He squinted and looked down at me.

"Yes, he is a wanker but he's still my boyfriend." Even in the drunken vodka haze, I was loyal. Sweet Lord, I'm in deep.

Spike pressed his lips together and clicked his tongue. "Right then. Since we are not going to have sex I am going back to the party and finding that gloved chit." He paused and looked at me with a bright smile. "Great night, though." He patted me on the head and was off.

I broke through my door, falling all over the place every five seconds. I fell up the stares, tumbled in to my bed and fall asleep right away.

I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that's night a bad night… at least I didn't cheat. At least I didn't do anything extremely embarrassing or anything.

Oh, my friend, do you know me at all?

School in the morning would show me just how BADBADBAD that night was.

* * *

Review, dear hearts, review.


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